Fatal Royals II
Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
TW: slow burn, blood, violence, swearing, sexual content, 18+ (you are responsible for your media consumption!)
A/N: The long overdue part two… I have no excuses friends, but I will say this turned out better than it would have if I had gone with the original, so forgive me. Enjoy! & as always thoughts are appreciated!
Part One
You’re awoken by an agonizing scream you immediately recognized as your sister’s. You rush from your bed and into the corridor, finding her crumpled on the ground with your mother’s ladies desperately trying to comfort her with tears streaking their own faces.
“Natalia!” You can’t help the fear that grips your chest as she makes eye contact with you, sobbing in complete despair. You drop to your knees in front of her, gripping her shoulders, tears already pooling in your eyes. “Natalia…”
She wraps her arms around you and pulls your head to her shoulder. “She’s gone, Y/N.” She chokes, “She’s dead.”
You jolt awake, feverish, with a layer of sweat coating your skin, and gasping for air. You’re disoriented, not sure where you are, and not thinking clearly enough to recognize anything about the room other than your sister who was at your side in an instant. She was cradling your head just like she had in the memories you just relived. Your gasps turn to sobs as you cling to her forearms like they’re the only things keeping you grounded. In a way they are.
You don’t notice Bucky leave the room as she brushes the hair sticking to your face while comfortingly shushing your cries. And you definitely don’t see the worried look he gives you before he shuts the door behind him. Minutes later you’re taking deep breaths and studying the room.
“Where are we?” You’re still sniffling, but your mind has caught up with you and your focus is sharp. You were still in the castle, you had to be, but you felt as though hours had to have passed. You pull back the blankets that were covering you, able to see now that your layers of clothes had been cut around the dagger wound. It was neatly sewn, and the blood that had soaked your dress was dried.
“Still in the castle. You caused quite a ruckus out there.” Natalia teases in an attempt to lighten the mood. She sighs at your lack of reaction. “The ball was mostly over by the time you offed the man. News hasn’t left the castle yet.”
“So why are we still here?” You press her. She almost laughs in disbelief. “Look at yourself! Christ, Y/N…” She shakes her head.
“You’re in no condition to move from this bed, let alone ride out of the kingdom.” She fiddles with the blankets on you, tucking them back at your side. “James has offered to keep you hidden here until you’re well enough- and it’s safe.”
You scoff. He may have pitied you when you fell to the floor covered in your own blood, but you found it hard to believe he cared about your well-being beyond that. “Enough Y/N. It’s kind of him.” She stands to pace in front of the bed you were in, nervously wringing her hands.
“What’s the matter with you?” It was her turn to scoff. “I’m sorry, Natalia, I only meant you seem nervous.” You soften your tone.
She lets her hands fall to her sides, facing you seriously. “I have to leave you here.”
“What?” You sit up at this, and your sister doesn’t miss the wince that passes your face.
“I still have to reach Anton and Pietro. Explain what happened. They need time to rearrange plans and minimize any damage that might follow.” You know she’s right, but you can’t stand the thought of staying here alone. As if reading your thoughts, your sister continues. “You won’t be alone.” She moves back to your side and kneels, taking your hands gently.
“He seems sincere. I feel we can trust him, at least for this.” You nod, not having the energy to protest further.
Say hello to your brother for me. You’d almost forgotten his last words.
“Natalia.” You break the silence that had fallen over the room. “That man, he said something before I killed him. It’s why he was able to get close enough to stab me.” She almost smirks, “I had been wondering about that.”
“Please, sister. I’m being serious. He told me to say hello to my brother.” When she doesn’t say anything, you continue, your voice lower. “Do you think… do you think one of our brothers-”
She furrows her eyes at you, without letting you finish your sentence. “Of course not! How could you think such a thing?” She hisses.
“I don’t want to believe it, but why would he lie?”
“I’ll not entertain another word of this!” Her voice rises at the end of her sentence. At the sight of your wide-eyed expression, she drops her head to the bed and sighs. Her voice is quieter when she looks up and speaks again. “We cannot blindly trust the accusations of a killer.”
“Have you forgotten that we are killers too?” You retort.
She stays silent for a few moments, an expression on her face that you can’t decipher, before she whispers, “Did he mention a name? Did he tell you which of our brothers he knew?”
Your gaze drops from yours as you mutter your reply, “No.”
“Then who’s to say he actually knew either of them? For all we know, it’s one last effort to tear our family apart.”
You let out a shaky breath, not fully believing her, but again, not having the energy to fight. “Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking-“
“It’s over, Y/N. You’re safe.” She squeezes your hand, and you nod. “At least in a general sense.” You were never truly safe as princesses, and you both knew that. She stands again, “I’m sorry to say I must leave you, my sweet sister.” She looks like she may say something else, but shakes her head slightly as if shaking it from her mind. “Be safe. I’ll send word to you somehow, keep an eye out.”
You nod, “I love you. Stay out of sight and ride swiftly, so I can leave all the sooner.” She smiles at you, “I love you too, Y/N.” And with that, she’s walking out the door and shutting it behind her.
Bucky reopens it a few minutes later. As stoic as ever, hands clasped behind his back, he barely looks at you, instead, his eyes wander around the room. “Do you recognize it here?” You don’t bother hiding the confusion on your face as you raise your eyebrows. “We spent so much time here as children.” It hits you then, of course. This was the long-abandoned wing of the castle that Bucky had claimed as his own at the age of 9. No one challenged him on it, in fact, they probably hadn’t even remembered it existed or bothered to care. What good were a few empty rooms when there was an entire castle to tend to?
Suddenly every brick is familiar, though the furnishings had changed. “Of course. Though I don’t remember a bed being here back then. Do your mistresses prefer meeting you in the remote corners of the castle?” You almost regret your attitude when you see the scowl that briefly crosses his face, but then it’s as if your words barely affected him. “I don’t bother hiding away my fun, princess. Who would dare say anything?”
You can’t think of a response, so you change the subject instead. “Who cleaned my wound? You didn’t bring someone else here, did you? It would be rather suspicious, even if they didn’t know who I was.” He looks over at you then, narrowing his eyes.
“Of course I didn’t.” He pauses, “I did it myself.”
You laugh incredulously. “You did this?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. I’m good with my hands.” He’s fully smirking now, and you can’t help but blush at the filthy thoughts that enter your mind for a single second before you’re shoving them away.
“Well thank you. You really have done a great job.” He offers a nod in response, moving to sit in the chair beside your bed. He crosses his arms over his chest and props his legs up on the edge, moving them out of your reach when you try to swat at them. You wince, forgetting again that you had been stabbed just hours earlier. He laughs at your pain, earning a glare from you.
“So, what’d the poor man do to you that was worth being killed over?” His tone is playful, but you can also hear some defensiveness behind the question. “I mean it’s not like I cared for the man but truly, it will be an inconvenience. The whole castle will be in a flurry over it.” He rolls his eyes as if the assassination had been a small mess he’d have to order someone to clean up.
You contemplate lying to him but decide to test whatever relationship still existed between the two of you.
“He killed my mother.”
He doesn’t move, but his attention is focused intently on you now. It takes him a few moments to speak again. “You’re dumber than I thought.” He finally says.
“Don’t patronize me, James.” You scoff, then follow up quietly, “I knew the risks.”
“Did you? Jesus Y/N. Even if that were true you can’t possibly think-“
You interrupt him. “Excuse me? If that were true?” He moves his legs from the bed, less relaxed now than he had been.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and clasping his hands together. “So what? You think that one of my father’s men was responsible for the death of your mother?”
“That’s exactly what I think because it’s true!” He stands up as you raise your voice at him, turning his back to you.
You hear him scoff. “You know every time I think you’re still the same Y/N I loved three years ago, you open your mouth and spew some new bullshit.” What?
“Bucky, please. Why would I make that up?” Bucky. It had slipped out again. When had you started calling him that in your thoughts? He doesn’t say anything this time, though. He walks back to your side, planting his hands on both sides of you, and leans over you, close to your face.
“Because you’re a child, Y/N, a child who knows nothing about the real world.” He whispers in your ear. You feel a pang in your heart at his words, but not before your heart flutters at his proximity. He has the upper hand, and he knows it. You can feel his breath on your face, and see the light blue specks in his eyes, but you can’t help but try to hurt him back.
“I know nothing of the world?” You mutter, pushing on his shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m not the one who sits in his pretty little castle all day, getting his arse kissed by every noble that passes through while doing nothing of real value!”
He moves now, running one hand through his hair and he rises back to his full height. “Oh for fuck-“
“You know nothing of the real pain this world has, and I doubt you ever. will!” Your eyes well, and you hate that you’re tearing up in front of him, but you can’t help the heavy emotions that are surfacing with this conversation. “You know nothing of the pain that losing a parent brings.” You almost choke, “You still have everything.”
He’s glaring at you still but doesn’t say anything. You’re both breathing deeply, and a heavy silence falls over the room.
And then, he’s leaving the room. “You stay in this fucking room until your sister sends for you.” And the door slams shut.
__________
It was laughable for him to think you would stay in this room for the entire, unspecified time your stay would be extended, but you humored him for the first two days (and even then, only because you physically weren’t able to move more than a few feet from the bed). You hadn’t seen him since he slammed the door after your argument, instead being visited by a maid no older than you named Eloise. She had been reassuring you the entire two days that her lips were sealed, that she wouldn’t betray you, and you trusted her word. You knew it had more to do with betraying Bucky than you, but you still appreciated her help and company.
Aside from the few hours a day Eloise spent in your room, you poured all of your time into thinking through the words that had haunted you since you heard them.
Say hello to your brother for me.
You only had two brothers, and you couldn’t fathom it being either one of them. Be rational Y/N! It had to be one of them. Emotions aside, who could it be?
Pietro, the youngest son, as there were only two of them. You supposed he would be after Anton in the line of succession, but your father might throw tradition out the window, he’d been known to before. Pietro hated the conflict between the two kingdoms more than anyone. He had lost a friend too.
Anton, the eldest brother, next in line for the throne. What would he gain from the death of his own mother? Slow down. Just knowing the man didn’t mean they were involved in your mother’s death… right?
Pietro. You selfishly refused to believe he would have been referencing the brother you were closer to. You were practically twins, even though he was a year older than you. It wasn’t him. That meant you had settled on it being Anton. You chewed your lip raw after deciding that. None of it made sense. You needed to get more information before leaving for home. That was your top priority.
But…
You also couldn’t stop thinking about what Bucky had said. He had said he loved you. Granted, he had only been 18 the last time he saw you. You had been 17, and you’d admit it now, you had hoped the marriage arrangement would work out. The implications of that word didn’t leave your mind, even as you combed through your family drama.
Loved.
Loved. Past tense. Meaning no longer. That was almost as heartbreaking to you as a brother’s betrayal. You pushed that down with the rest of your feelings toward him.
__________
It was late afternoon of… the third day? You could hardly keep it straight with your mind racing around other things. You let out a deep sigh at the entirety of your situation, letting your eyes wander the lawn that sprawled beneath the single window in this damned room.
And that’s when you see him. Although you don’t see his face right away, you know it’s him. Bucky. Sparring with… was that? Duke Rogers. Of course. You thought you had heard your sister mentioning they were close.
You shift in the windowsill, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your head on them. You allow yourself to admire his form from the safety of your tower. It was nearly dusk, the yellow sun fading behind the horizon into a vibrant golden light that would last less than another hour. It bathed over him, glinting ever so often on the tip of his sword.
You hadn’t seen a single soul in all the time you’d spent staring out the cross-hatched pane, but maybe you just hadn’t been paying attention.
Or maybe he was doing it here on purpose.
If you had been in a different state of mind, you would have realized how foolish it was to think you were safe from his view. After all, you were only in a window above the lawn, not far away like you felt.
But you weren’t in a different state of mind, so you continued to stare, and he continued to pretend he didn’t see you doing so.
You swore you could see the veins in his hands flex with every swing, his grip on the hilt tight.
Had you ever noticed his hands before?
He moved effortlessly, and you could tell he had years of training. Every prince did, but he was talented too, as if he was anticipating each of the duke’s steps before he took them.
You could hear the faint crashing of the blades, see the concentration on his face. You watched until the golden light had almost completely faded, and the two men decided it was time for them to part. You watched as Bucky clapped Duke Rogers on the back, then mindlessly swung the sword around as the duke walked off.
And then you watched as he looked directly at you, and smirked.
You duck out of the window, cursing yourself for allowing him the upper hand again. But beneath that, your heart flutters. Again.
__________
By the morning of the sixth day, your wound felt well enough that you decided you would venture outside of your room that evening. You just had to find some way to pass the time until then, and you decided the window wasn’t an option today. You found that not to be a problem a few hours later when Bucky entered the room, barely knocking before pushing the door all the way open.
“I could’ve been naked in here, you know.” He almost snorts. “If only I were so lucky.” You roll your eyes, but don’t miss the heat hit your cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” You eye him, genuinely wondering why he had come after your last conversation ended on such a tense note.
“Am I not allowed to visit my own prisoner?”
You scoff, “I am not your prisoner.”
He gives you an almost sweet smile, “But you’ve been following my rules so well, darling.” You pretend to gag at the nickname, and silently curse your body for having an entirely opposite reaction.
“What are you truly doing here?”
He sits down at the table at the far end of the room, his tone changing into something more sincere. “I brought you supper. I thought it would be nice.” You narrow your eyes slightly as you move to sit across from him. “It’s not poisoned, is it?”
“Of course not, Y/N. Now please, can we have a real conversation for once?” He gestures to the plate, and you both start to eat.
He breaks the silence first. “I wanted to apologize.” You take another bite while he continues with a sigh, “I don’t know if I agree with all the-“ he pauses, “-details… of why you came here. But you’re right. I can’t imagine the pain of losing your mother.”
You clear your throat, “Thank you. I- that means a lot to me.” Silence falls between the two of you once again, but it’s not suffocating this time. You share no more than a few words for the rest of the meal, and then he’s handing you a letter, “From your sister.” He says briefly, and then he’s leaving again.
Y/N,
Two days. A horse will be waiting for you at the stables behind Prancing Pony Inn. Meet Pietro at the border of the province. I’ll see you when you return home. Ride fast. Be safe.
All my love,
Natalia
You can see by the date on the letter that he had waited a day to give it to you. So, tomorrow night Pietro would be waiting for you. You fold the letter and toss it into the fireplace without thinking, not because you worried about anyone finding it, but simply as a habit. If you had studied it longer, you might’ve wondered about the unusual wording. But you were just happy to know when you would be leaving.
That night you’re able to, by some miracle, find your way back to the study of the man you had assassinated. You were determined to find something, anything, that would connect him to Anton, or clear him from your conscience.
You start by rifling through the same papers you saw him rifling through when you walked in on him. Bills of sales, property deeds, nothing. You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. You search through all of the drawers until you reach one that’s locked. You scan the room for something to pry it open with, settling on a letter opener. You get it open easily, but nothing. You walk around the desk, knocking at different places in the wood to try and find false drawers, somewhere something could be hidden. Nothing.
You curse the man from beyond the grave, finding yourself becoming desperate for anything. In your panicked state, you almost don’t notice the door disguised as a bookshelf.
You were getting sloppy.
With renewed hope, you walk over to the faint outline of a door, pushing lightly on each edge until it pops open. You freeze when you hear heavy boots outside the door to the study. They continue to get louder, and you realize they’re planning on entering the room. You slip through the bookshelf, shutting it as quickly and quietly as you can. You press your ear to the back of the door, keeping your breath controlled.
You vaguely hear one of the guards mutter about the drawer being unlocked. Shit. You needed to get out of here. You scanned the room as best you could, now realizing that it was a large bedroom. There were several large windows, allowing moonlight to stream in.
You spot another desk in this room, but there isn’t enough light to do much else. You were running out of time, tomorrow would be your last day here. But the guards’ voices are getting louder again, and you decide it’s too risky to linger any longer. You’d be back tomorrow. You’d have time before you had to meet your brother.
You’d be back tomorrow.
__________
Bucky doesn’t come to say goodbye. You spend half the day upset with him but decide it’s for the best. You don’t want to risk ruining what little civility you had found with him at lunch.
You retrace your pathway from the previous night, finding yourself back in the study and heading straight for the bookshelf door. Your back is facing away from the bedroom as you close the concealed door, but before you even turn around, you can sense there’s someone else in the room.
You relax slightly when you hear Bucky tsk.
He’s almost lounging at the desk that you had planned on searching that night. How annoying. “All you had to do was listen to me for a few more hours.” More tsking. He slowly stands up, slowly puts his hands into his pockets, and slowly makes his way over to where you are.
“How did you know I would be in here? Have you been watching me?” You glower at him. It had caught you by surprise, but you didn’t let that show. You were becoming more frustrated by the minute though. Everything you needed was potentially just out of reach.
He scoffs, “Of course not. Did you really think I wouldn’t have others helping me keep track of you?” You sigh. The guards.
He continues, “You seem to be completely over your nearly fatal wound. All this sneaking around.” When you interrupt him with a scoff, he narrows his eyes. As he walks toward you, you back up. You don’t get very far though before hitting your back, since you had barely moved away from the wall in the first place.
He places one hand next to your head and leans closer. It seemed to be his favorite position with you.
“You know I asked my father about your mother’s assassination.” He said it so casually you almost thought you misheard him. “Don’t worry, even if he did connect that fool’s death to you, as far as he knows you’re already back in your own kingdom.”
“And?” You dare to ask, but you know what the answer will be.
“He knew nothing about it.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Why would he admit to something like that James?”
He grinds his teeth, almost as frustrated as you. “I can be civil with you until you go, but please, remember that we are not friendly, and we never will be.”
“Then why do we keep ending up in compromising positions?” You counter, gripping his collar and abruptly pulling him forward so your chest is pressing against his. With your hands still on his collar, you pull his head closer so you can reach his ear. “You’re lucky you had the forethought to rid me of my weapons.” You whisper, before pushing him back. And you meant it. You hadn’t seen any of them since you’d woken up in that bed.
“Don’t taunt me, princess.” He grips your wrist, and you can see his jaw clench.
You do exactly that. You taunt him. At that moment, you’d almost entirely forgotten about the evidence you were hoping to find. “So formal, James.” Your eyes are dark when you look up at him through your lashes. “You forget I was almost your wife.” It may have been crossing a line, it definitely was, but the tension in the room had to be cut with something.
You might’ve regretted it if it hadn’t led to what he did next.
In a second, he has you pushed against the wall, lips roughly on yours. Another second later, both hands are tangling themselves in your hair. You’re quick to respond, moving an arm around the back of his neck to hold him to your chest, the other sliding over his shoulder until you’re fully wrapped up in each other.
It was indescribable, and in a completely ironic way, the only time you’d ever cooperated with each other. He kept one hand on your face the entire time, gently cupping your cheek as your lips moved together, while the other roamed down your body until he was squeezing your ass.
You gasp at the movement, and he takes it as an opportunity to kiss down your neck and to your chest, where he makes sure to leave a mark. You inhale sharply as his lips brush over your collarbone, using the arm that was around his neck to pull him even closer. “Is this a bad idea?” You breathe out. “I don’t know.” He mutters against your skin.
He pauses, “But do either of us care?” You bite your lip, contemplating his statement. “No…I suppose not.” With those words, he’s back to kissing your body. “Bucky…” He moves back to your mouth at the sound of your moaning.
“You have no idea what hearing my name come out of that mouth does to me.” He groans. You let out a breathy laugh and bring his lips to yours again, taking the opportunity of another moan to slip your tongue into his mouth. This time, like all other aspects of your life, you fight each other for dominance. When he finally pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, you’re both gasping for air.
“Stay with me.” He whispers. “What?” You let out a small laugh. “Here. In my kingdom.” You pull back so you can look into his eyes. He cups your cheek again and you lean into his palm, holding his forearm.
“I can’t.” You smile sadly, turning your cheek so you can kiss his palm. Then you’re removing his hand from your face, bringing both of them down with yours. But you don’t let go. Not yet.
“I can’t Buck.” You can see hundreds of emotions swirling in his eyes. He knows as well as you do, but he isn’t ready to let you go.
“You can. I know you think my father wants to get rid of your family but he doesn’t. None of that is true. You can stay here with me, and we can get married. Like we both wanted. I know we both wanted to.”
Tears fall from your eyes as you close them with a deep sigh. “What is it, Y/N?” You open your eyes and purse your lips as more tears slide down your cheeks. He starts to wipe them but pauses when he hears you whisper. “You still don’t believe me.”
You can feel the space between you before he moves to create it.
Now you let go.
“Don’t you understand that your entire kingdom is trying to kill me?” You’re almost pleading for him to finally see what’s been going on for years. To see the reasons you’d grown apart. Why your families hated each other.
But instead, his expression hardens. “I guess that’s something we’ll never agree on.” He takes another step back, breaking your heart in the process.
You almost drop to the floor, you suddenly want to be anywhere but here, you’d never wanted to be further from him.
But instead, your expression hardens. “I guess so.” You barely let the words out of your mouth, almost hating yourself for saying them because you knew what it meant. He did too.
You can’t stand it any longer, and you were running out of time anyway.
He’s moved to the desk now, his elbow resting on the table, holding his head in his hand. He doesn’t look up when you open the door. You don’t mean to look back, but you do anyway.
“I hope you’ll understand one day, Buck.” He keeps his head down. “Get out Y/N.”
__________
As soon as you were out of the city gates you push the horse to a gallop, willing it to go as fast as it could. You don’t let your thoughts spend a single second on Bucky until that moment, and now tears pool at your lashes. You had no evidence for or against either of your brothers, your mother was still gone, and… and you had lost him again. You let out as much of a sob as you can, wind whipping your hair into your face. The combination of this and the freezing air of the night stings, and you feel utterly spent when you finally make it to your brother.
The second you’re close enough to him, you stop the horse and leap off, your cloak billowing at the movement. And then you fall into his arms.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Pietro kisses the top of your head as you sob into his chest. “I know.”
He held you until your eyes had dried up, and then you became numb to the world. For the rest of your shared journey, you remained that way.
He hadn’t seen you like this in five years. He would never tell you, but he also mourned what he could only assume had happened between you and his former best friend. And he knew then that everything he had been hoping for this mission had been lost.
There would be no peace.
A/N: Hello I hope you enjoyed! There will be more parts (I don’t know how many) but this is not the end!
Taglist: @mggpleasedontlookhere, @emmabarnes, @intothesoul, @art-eye-like, @melcutie, @thatwasnotplanned, @5lutty5arah
